The Christmas Party
by spottedhorse
Summary: Anthony presence at a Christmas party is required and he isn't looking forward to it until...


So many Andith stories are being posted after a bit of a drought and it inspired another Christmas story out of me. Sail on, Good Ship Andith, sail on!

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><p>Anthony Strallan hated parties, especially the ones his sister threw since they were usually an attempt to "fix him up" with some unsuspecting sacrificial lamb. It wasn't that he was anti-social exactly but chatting up women had never come easily for him and his sister insisted on throwing victim after victim in his path. This year would be like the last five had been, ever since the death of his dear wife, Maud. He was expected at Angela's holiday party and while she always made a point of reminding him that he could bring a friend, they both knew he wouldn't and also they both knew she would invite every single female under the age of 80 to prey on him.<p>

He sat as his desk in his office at the York agricultural supply firm that had been the family business since his grandfather's time, contemplating a feasible excuse to extract himself from his sister's annual torture. He considered claiming a last minute business trip but he'd tried that last year to no avail. With a sigh, he wondered what deadly disease he could contract before the party but short of Ebola, he couldn't think of one. Muttering a string of curses that his mother most assuredly would have had him sitting in the corner for when he was younger, he resigned himself to his fate and tried to return his attention to his work.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at his door. At the sound of his grunt, the door opened and his assistant, Margaret, poked her head around it. "Your next appointment is here, _Sir _Anthony, she announced with an evil grin that he was certain she had refined just for him. But it was the use of his title that alerted him to the nature of his appointment. Margaret only ever used it when his appointment was with someone of rank. Clearing his throat, he stood and nodded, signaling that he was ready for whatever came next.

Margaret disappeared for a moment and then opened the door wide and announced, "Lady Edith Crawley." A young woman, half his age probably, was ushered into his office. The first thing he noticed about her was her crown of golden hair; well, not golden in the yellow sense, more like the golden of a sunset. The next thing he noticed was her shy smile. He returned it with one of his own.

"Crawley? Are you by chance related to Lord Grantham?" Anthony asked as he motioned to a chair at the table that sat in a corner of his office. He took the other chair as she settled into one.

"Yes, he's my father," she replied, not looking at him directly, her eyes darting across the floor in an attempt to deflect the comments that she knew were coming.

Anthony smiled anyway as his mind quickly calculated the last time he'd spoken to Robert Crawley, the Earl of Grantham, and drew the conclusion that indeed this lovely young woman was half his age. "I haven't seen your father in several years, he said. "Please give him my regards when you see him next."

Her eyes shot up to meet his. "You know my father?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. My ancestral home is Locksley which makes me a neighbor of sorts. I don't spend much time there anymore but we spent quite a lot of time together as boys."

"Really? You must tell me about it sometime," she said, her gaze gauging him in a calculating manner. "Granny often hints that he was quite a rascal but he refuses to own up to any of it."

"Really? Well, he was quite good at creating mischief. Thing of it was, I usually was the one that got caught out."

Lady Edith chuckled. "That sound like Papa."

"Yes," he drawled as he watched the dark pools that were her eyes sparkle.

She smiled at him again, staring back at him nervously. After a moment he snapped back to the matter at hand. "So, am I to understand that you are here for the writing job?"

"Yes, I am. I've been working in London… for a paper there … but I thought I'd like to move closer to home and I saw the advertisement about your position, so here I am," she explained.

"Yes, well… " he glanced at the folder she was holding, "I suppose you have some example of your writing?"

"Here, yes…" she replied as she slipped the folder across to him.

Anthony glanced through the folder, perusing some of her pieces. "I've read these before. I remember this one in particular," he said as he held up a copy of a scathing article about the British Industrial Complex. "You wrote this and now you want to become a part of that which you so completely disparaged? "

"Well, yes… I need the job," she answered meekly.

Anthony looked into the apprehensive eyes of his old chum's daughter and inspiration struck. "The job is yours on one condition."

"Which is?"

"My sister is insisting on my attendance at her holiday party Christmas Eve and I need someone to go with me…run interference."

"What? Interference?"

Anthony smiled. "Yes, she throws unsuspecting women in my path, you see. It's really tiresome but she does it every year."

"And you believe that if I'm with you, you'll be safe from the onslaught?"

"Yes," he replied. "Surely my appearance with a lovely young woman like you on my arm will squelch my sister's plans and put off any of the random predators at the party."

Lady Edith laughed. "Sir Anthony, have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"This morning when I shaved. Why?" he asked nervously, suddenly feeling like a teen again, worrying that he might have a blemish on his face.

"Because, you are sweet meat for all the lady predators out there and my presence won't deter them one bit."

"What?" he squeaked as he shifted in his chair.

Edith stifled a giggle and tried to frame her words more carefully. "You are a very handsome man, Sir Anthony; handsome and eligible… and very successful in business too. I'd be a minor obstacle in their way."

"But an obstacle none the less. That's my condition. Do you want the job or not?"

Lady Edith smiled. "Oh, I think I'm going to enjoy working under you," she answered with a wink.

Anthony frowned, unsure if her words had a double meaning or not as he replied, "Good then. You can begin your new job with the new year… Um, where should I pick you up for the party?"

"I'm staying at Downton. But I could meet you here."

"No, Downton is perfect. Angela has taken over Locksley for the holidays and that's where the party will be." He looked again at her folder and then cleared his throat, knowing he needed to get the conversation back on the business at hand. "if you'd stop by our HR office, Mrs. Jenkins will help with all the paperwork and such. Margaret can show you where it is."

"Yes, thank you. But I do have one question. Well, two actually."

"Yes," he said, trying to think what she might want to know.

"What is the salary and what do I wear to this party of yours?"

"Oh erm…" he quoted a salary and was relieved when she seemed pleased with the number. Then he smiled awkwardly. "And it isn't my party but it is white tie. My sister likes to resurrect old traditions around the holidays and attire is one of the most onerous."

"No, not at all. It will be lovely, I'm sure."

Anthony almost forgot to breathe as he considered how lovely his companion would be this year. "Yes, well… I'll see you on Christmas Eve then…"

He watched as she left his office, fascinated by the way she moved and how she managed to bundle together a sense of shyness and complete confidence in one package. _Don't be ridiculous, _he thought_, she's far too young for you…. _ But he found himself smiling through the rest of the day.

Anthony called at Downton Abbey promptly at the appointed time. He was standing in the entry when Robert Crawley came out of the small library and spotted him. "Anthony," he called out. "It is so good to see you! It has been far too long."

"Yes Robert, it has been. Your daughter reminded me the other day of times past which of course were filled with our times spent together."

"Yes, she told me. Said you wouldn't tell her any stories. I do appreciate that you didn't give her any ammunition with which to tease me. She also said you've hired her at your business in York. She's very excited, you know."

"Yes, well… I'm sure she will do well. We have one writer on staff but the load is growing too much for him. I know he'll be happy with the help. And I imagine she'll teach him a thing or two as well."

"It's awfully nice of you to invite her to Angela's party. We received an invitation, of course, but Cora's family is over from the states and we'd already planned to have some other relatives in, so we were forced to decline. Please give Angela and Miles our regards."

Of course. But I hope I'm not taking Lady Edith away from family obligations."

"Nonsense. She and Mary are both a bit tired of keeping company with all us old people. It'll do her good to get out and meet some new ones. Besides, truth be told, she and Mary are bickering as usual and it'll be a more pleasant evening without the both of them here."

Anthony chuckled for lack of a better response. Fumbling through his mind for something else to say, he was relieved to see Edith appear. "Sir Anthony," she said as she smiled at him.

"Lady Edith," he replied, too dumbstruck to say anything else. She looked absolutely stunning in a gown that suited her perfectly. It shimmered when she moved and the cut of the dress complimented all of her best physical features, he thought. Offering her his arm, he smiled. "Shall we go?"

Robert watched the two leave with a puzzled expression on his face. When Edith had told him she would be attending a party with Anthony Strallan he'd thought it odd. But as he watched the two of them together, it didn't seem odd at all. Shrugging his thoughts away he turned and headed upstairs. It would be time to change for dinner soon.

The ride from Downton to Locksley was a short one but Anthony was having difficulty concentrating on the road. He hadn't had a stunning woman seated beside him in years, if ever. And Edith Crawley was beyond stunning this evening. Her gown dipped just enough in the front to hint at hidden treasures and her soft, porcelain skin was extremely inviting, especially there. She wore just the right amount of make up to suit his tastes, he noted; nothing over done but certainly adding to her allure. And her hair… his fingers itched to play in it; well, there and other regions of her body as well. What had begun as a tingle in his loin at her front door was quickly turning into a raging fire. _Don't be an idiot, _he reminded himself_; she's here with you because she wanted the job and she's far too young, far too beautiful for an old codger like you. Be careful that you don't make a fool of yourself. But god, she is so…. _His mind couldn't conjure the right word to describe just what she was…_because she is so beyond anything you've ever experienced before…_

Finally they pulled in front of the old ancestral family house and he climbed from behind the wheel. The cooler air was enough to tame the fire within, if not extinguish it and by the time he'd made it around to the other side to assist Edith, he was confident that his body wouldn't give his thoughts away. Still, she smiled at him in a knowing fashion, which made him squirm.

Once inside, he introduced Edith to his sister. "Angela, this is Edith Crawley," he said with a smirk. "Edith, my sister, Angela Chetwood." Glancing up he saw Miles appear at Angela's shoulder. "And this is her husband, Miles."

Everyone smiled an observed the social niceties for a moment before Anthony guided Edith further into the house. Once they were in the drawing room, Anthony fetched drinks for the both of them and stood with Edith, tongue tied. _What does one say to such a gorgeous creature?_

Edith looked around the room and then gazed up at him. "This house has a charm to it that Downton lacks."

"What? However can you say that? Downton is a majestic old house with such a history behind it," Anthony replied.

"Yes, of course; but it lacks the warmth that your house has. This room, for instance… I can imagine a family here, children, perhaps a bit of rowdy play, and many loving, gentle evenings spent by the fire. Downton doesn't evoke that, I'm afraid."

"It doesn't?" Anthony wasn't quite sure about the comparison. Downton was certainly a larger house, by far. "The drawing room was inviting, as I recall. And the library …well, I've always admired it," he replied.

"Yes, but can you imagine rowdy play in either of those rooms?"

His mouth quirked up in a nervous smile before he spoke. "I don't have to imagine it; I witnessed it both as a boy visiting there and later watching your father tussle with you and your sisters." He felt a twinge of sadness at the reminder of just how much older he was than this lovely creature.

"Really? I don't remember you from my childhood."

"Because I married just after your youngest sister was born and we made our home in York. I didn't visit this area often after that and after my wife died, not at all."

A frown furrowed at her brow. "I'm so sorry…"

"For what?"

"Well, I didn't mean to remind you of … of sadness."

Anthony swallowed. "It's alright. I still miss her, of course; but it doesn't sting so much anymore. She was in a lot of pain before she died and she isn't now. It was a relief really, when she died; a relief for the both of us. Cancer is such a brutal disease."

"Yes, it is. But if you have moved on, so to speak, then how is it that you haven't been snatched up by one of the predatory birds your sister keeps throwing your way?" Her eyes twinkled with mirth as she asked.

Another smile crept into his features and he felt that perhaps his eyes were twinkling as well. Before his mind could think of a response his mouth was already uttering one. "Because I've been waiting for you to come along…" Realizing what he'd just said, Anthony clamped his mouth shut, his eyes feeling like they might pop out of their sockets. _Now you've done it, you dolt!_

She laughed; she just laughed. She blushed too, of course; but she laughed. Anthony wasn't certain how he should feel about that. Was she laughing at him or with him? Was she pleasantly amused by the notion that he might be interested or was she laughing at the notion? Did she believe him to be the old fool that he knew he was?

"I…I…" he stammered. "That didn't quite come out the way I intended," he mumbled apologetically.

Her face settled into a warm smile. "Perhaps not, but… I like that you said it."

"You do?" This was the most surprising woman he'd ever met!

She smiled at him and nodded. "I do."

He opened his mouth to speak but Angela was suddenly at his side with one of her predatory friends in tow. "Anthony, I don't believe you've met Jane Cummings. She's up from London for the party. Oh and Jane, this is… I'm sorry dear, what was your name again?" She looked at Edith questioningly.

"Oh Angela, you know very well who Edith is," Anthony growled. Turning to the crow next to his sister, he smiled politely. "It's very nice to meet you." Then turning his attention back to Edith, he winked. "Lady Edith Crawley, may I present Miss Jane Cummings, from London." He made a point of emphasizing Edith's rank. It was to poke his sister but he could see it had the added benefit of putting off the Cummings woman.

Edith however, astounded him. "Please, let's ignore the titles. Miss Cummings, it is very nice to meet you, please call me Edith. Isn't this a lovely party and this house the perfect setting?"

Jane Cummings nodded at her mutely as Angela glared at her brother. Miles saved the moment by nudging Angela's elbow. "Charles and Helen are here," he told her and the couple moved away. Jane Cummings gave them one last glance before seeing someone she obviously knew and heading off to chat with them.

Anthony sighed in relief. "Well, that's good. One down…"

Edith giggled. "Just how far do you want me to go with this game of yours?"

"What? I don't …what do you mean?"

"Well, am I simply your date for the evening, your latest squeeze, or are we really serious? Do we leave the impression that after the party you'll take me to my door and after a chaste kiss leave me or should the impression be that our evening won't end when the party does?'

"What," he gaped. "I… I would never expect… I mean, I wouldn't do that to you… imply that…that…" he stammered, unable to pull his wild thoughts together. His latest squeeze, what was that? His body was quite responsive to the notion but his mind was appalled. "I couldn't do that to you… imply that we are lovers. No one would believe it anyway," he finally managed.

Edith smiled up at him and then very gently dusted his shoulder with her fingers and then straightened his perfectly straight lapel on his dinner jacket. "Oh, I don't see why not. As I said the other day, you are a very handsome man…_very_ handsome. I imagine every woman in this room, with the exception of your sister of course, would love to get between the sheets with you for a sampling."

"Oh now, you are just being ridiculous," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I'm too tall, awkward both physically and socially, and… and… well, women have never…"

"Anthony!" a fortyish woman exclaimed as she barreled up to him and reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. He felt his face growing red with embarrassment as he watched Edith stifle a snicker. "Emily, how er..um nice to see you…again," he stuttered.

Emily pushed herself between Anthony and Edith, much to his chagrin. "It's been ages," she drawled, "where have you been?"

"In York, Emily, where I usually am. I er… I'd like to introduce you to my…"

"Yes, I'm Edith Crawley," Edith interrupted. "I'm here with Anthony," she said in a pointed manner as she moved around the intruder to slip her hand through his arm. He felt instantly warm as she leaned against him in a very possessive manner.

Emily looked her over like one examines fish at the market. "Oh, I didn't realize," she said reproachfully.

Her attitude angered Anthony and as he slipped his arm around Edith's waist protectively, he replied. "Yes, we've kept things quiet while we get better acquainted but … well, you'll keep our little secret, won't you?"

Emily looked horrified. "Oh, I didn't realize… Right, well… it is good to see you again and… well, good luck," she said with a wink before ducking away.

Edith turned into Anthony, hiding her face in his jacket, giggling. He looked down at her head, so comfortably burrowed into him and watched as she shook with the laughter. And in that one moment, she stole his heart.

They ate from Angela's buffet, chatted with some of the other guests, and all the while shot surreptitious looks at one another that had everyone at the party buzzing. Eventually Anthony took Edith to the library. "This is my favorite room in the house," he explained. "The family has collected books for generations but it was my grandfather, the first Sir Anthony Strallan, who filled the room. My father said he had books stacked everywhere, on chairs, on tables, in corners…" He looked around the room with a sad, crooked smile.

"He must have loved to read."

"Yes, he did. And he was quite knowledgeable on a variety of topics. My father's aunt, my grandfather's sister, told me that he fell deeply in love with a young woman a few years after my grandmother died. The war intervened and when he came back wounded, he didn't think it was proper to pursue marriage with her. He walked away from her, even though she wanted to marry him. It broke his heart. He became a hermit, locked himself away in this room and read. When he died they found him in his favorite chair in this room with a book in his hands. It was a book that she had written."

"Who was she?"

"I never knew. My aunt never told me. She must have been very special though…" He looked around the room wistfully.

"Sounds to me as if he was the special one, to give her up like that even though it broke his heart. She was a very lucky woman to have been loved so."

Anthony looked into her dark eyes and could only mumble in agreement. He thought perhaps he had a glimmer of understanding for his grandfather as he watched her face. They stood, eyes locked for moments before either spoke.

"Anthony," she whispered, "Show me the rest of the house."

His heart thumped loudly as he considered the possible meanings of her request. "Perhaps that isn't such a good idea, Edith."

"I disagree. Show me the room you grew up in, show me your room, Anthony." She leaned up, her hand crawling up to the back of his neck as she reached to kiss him.

Anthony felt the fire in his groin leap into a blaze as her soft lips touched his. And when her tongue teased at his lips, demanding entry, he felt his limbs turn to jelly. Their kiss was pure bliss in Anthony's estimation. He held her close to him as they struggled to catch their breath after the kiss ended. "Oh god, Edith… "

"I want to be with you, Anthony."

"You don't know me…"

"Tell me you don't feel it …"

He paused, a lie on the tip of his tongue, but as he loosened his grip on her and looked into her eyes, he couldn't say it. "I can't do that because I feel it so very much. But I won't… we can't … not here, not tonight. "

Her chest was rising and falling noticeably which wasn't helping Anthony's state of mind at all. "Why not?" she asked.

"Because… because I want to cherish you, honor you the way you should be honored. I want to know you, learn every nuance about you, and then… then it will be right."

"I don' think I can wait that long…" she said as she kissed him again.

The following Christmas Anthony told Angela she would have to hold her holiday party somewhere else. He made plans to spend the holiday at Locksley and two days before Christmas, he pulled his car in the drive at the front of the house. He looked up at the structure and smiled as he went around the car to help his new wife out of the vehicle. She smiled at him, her dark eyes sparkling. "So finally, you are going to show me your room?" she asked mischievously.

A quirky smile broke on his face as he took her hand and led her inside. "My room and every other room in the house, my sweet," he finally answered. Edith Strallan looked at her husband and grinned. "I look forward to it," she said with a smirk. And so they spent their holiday exploring the house and each other. Anthony Strallan thought it was his best Christmas ever.


End file.
